


Storm Chasing

by ladygray99



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Community: numb3rs100, Drabble, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-03
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don and Coop are chasing a fugitive and a storm is chasing them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm Chasing

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a Californian, tornadoes are the most unnatural, terrifying things on earth.

Storm Chasing (#145 Storm)

Don’s knuckles were white as they clutched at the interior of Billy’s truck.

“Drive faster.” Don hissed.

Billy looked over his shoulder at the funnel cloud behind them.

“Ah, hell Eppes it hasn’t even touched down.”

“Not the point.”

Billy laughed. “What’s the matter? Don’t you get twisters out in LaLa land?”

“No!” Don snapped. “Keep driving.”

“Think of it like an earthquake that comes out of the sky.”

“Earthquakes don’t have annual seasons.”

“Seriously Eppes, if you’re going to ride with me you’re going to have to get over this.”

Don turned around and watched the storm change direction.

 

Strike a Match (#163 Strike)

They were huddled in the basement of the crappy motel they had planned to stay at. To add a little irony to the situation the guy they had been chasing was at the other end of the basement.

They couldn’t touch him. He was too well armed and there were too many potential hostages.

Their suspect reached into his jacket and pulled out a book of matches. Don remembered he was wanted for arson. He struck a match, let it burn, blew it out, then struck another, and another.

“Will you stop that?” Someone shouted, then the lights went out.

 

Sometimes it is better to Curse the Darkness (#85 Candles)

There was the smell of sulfur in the dark, the sound of a match, at the far end of the basement a candle glowed. That was their suspect’s MO; a candle left to burn in a puddle of accelerant.

Don watched their suspect get up and begin to pace the basement, candle in hand.

He knew he was being chased, the question Don asked himself was had he been made.

The suspect stopped in front of him and Coop.

“Can I help you son?” Coop drawled.

Their suspect drew a gun and blew out the candle. All hell broke loose.

 

Random Damages (#161 Damages)

Don crawled through the wreckage of the cheap motel.

“Coop!” He called out under the still grey skies. “Coop!”

There was a groan. A pile of old mattresses moved and Coop emerged. “Where’s the bastard?” Coop asked with a groan of pain.

“Are you OK?”

“Where is he?”

Don heard moans under the wreckage. “Help me get these people out.”

“We’ve got to find the bastard.” Coop snapped.

Don began digging through the wreckage with his bare hands. He shifted a chunk of drywall. “I found him Billy.”

Their suspect was there, dead, splintered wood blown right through his body.


End file.
